


The (soon-to-be) Reverend Daughters of the Ninth

by melodies_from_beyond



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Engagement, F/F, Fluff, Gideon has an ugly sweater courtesy of the Third, Gideon has her body back, Harrow the Ninth Spoilers (Locked Tomb Trilogy), New Year's Fluff, Short & Sweet, harrow gives Gideon an engagement ring, soft Harrow, the few beautiful things on the Ninth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodies_from_beyond/pseuds/melodies_from_beyond
Summary: Harrow presents Gideon with an engagement ring to start the new year off right.'Mounted on a delicate silver band was a tiny white skull, carved from a pearlescent material that caught the faint dyed light and reflected it along its surface. It must have been one of the few beautiful things on the Ninth. The ring was small, but not small enough that it wouldn’t fit perfectly on Gideon’s ring finger.'
Relationships: Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	The (soon-to-be) Reverend Daughters of the Ninth

‘Griddle?’

Gideon turned around in the dim hallway to find Harrowhark standing behind her. Her necromancer held something behind her back with one arm, her other hand tugging at the hem of Gideon’s sweater. It was dark outside, as usual for the Ninth, with the distant light of the stars vaguely illuminating the sharp curves of Harrow’s face. The stained glass of the window painted both of them in a mosaic of subdued colors, Harrow’s obsidian dress dyed navy blue and silvery and subtle violet, Gideon’s fire-colored Third holiday sweater in varying shades of rust. 

After seeing Harrow’s earnest expression, with her wide and hopeful eyes and muted splashes of gold and amber and cerulean on her skin, Gideon couldn’t speak. Her voice caught, high in her throat, her intended words escaping as a mere soft sound. Her heart fluttered like a startled bird. But it was a warm flutter, telling of a new beginning, of a change for the better. It was a welcome feeling. 

Harrowhark hesitantly lowered her gaze, gracefully bringing her hand out from behind her back. The lace overlay of her sleeves rustled as her arm brushed her side. This was a dress Gideon has never previously seen her in, a black lace garment worn over Harrow’s usual long sleeved shirt and trousers. The bodice was composed of two layers of lace twisted in rib-like formations, and the sleeves over half a dozen overlapping layers of intricate, fragile material. The skirt was long and barely brushed the ground when Harrow moved. 

Tucked in that delicate palm was a small velvet-covered object, as black as the darkest iron forged on the Ninth. It was a box. A very small box, obviously meant to hold something of great importance. 

Harrow presented it to her cavalier with both hands tucked underneath it, like an offering, like a sacred bone shard. Her hands did not shake. They were steady. Set. Determined. 

‘Open it,’ Said the Reverend Daughter. Her voice wavered slightly under her usual steel tone, telling of her excitement, her girlish eagerness that she never got the luxury of having in the time before Canaan House, or the Mithraeum, or before Gideon finally was able to reclaim her own body. 

Slowly, Gideon Nav plucked the box from her necromancer’s upturned palms and lifted the lid. She was gentle with it as she lifted it up for a better view, not wanting to harm what rested within. 

Tucked inside two layers of silken fabric was a ring. Mounted on a delicate silver band was a tiny white skull, carved from a pearlescent material that caught the faint dyed light and reflected it along its surface. It must have been one of the few beautiful things on the Ninth. The ring was small, but not small enough that it wouldn’t fit perfectly on Gideon’s ring finger. 

Suddenly, Gideon clutched her abdomen, her hand hovering over the scar where the spike exited her body. She recalled the excruciating pain, Harrow’s broken tears, the horrid waiting spent hanging out in Harrow’s brain, the strange brief period in which she inhabited Harrow’s body before being transferred back into her proper flesh. And this ring was proof of how much she meant to the Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, who literally fucking lobotomized herself to keep Gideon whole. That little pointy woman, who was still more girl than anything else, as she’d only now allowed herself to start letting her guard down, had fought nearly to her death to save her cavalier. Her unending, relentless struggle to keep the one she loved brought her to hell and back, and this was the final thing to prove it, nestled right inside a tiny velvet-covered box. 

And inside that tiny box was an engagement ring. 


End file.
